Administrative Duties
by garnet thrill
Summary: Prompt #312 for the Cuddy Fest on LJ: Cuddy/Thirteen. NC-17 - Stilettos - kink!, sub!Cuddy, dom!13. Warning: Kinky girl-on-girl action filled with BDSM stuff. Don’t read it if that makes you less than happy.


**Prompt #312 for the Cuddy Fest on LJ: Cuddy/Thirteen. NC-17 - Stilettos - kink!, sub!Cuddy, dom!13.**

**Warning: Kinky girl-on-girl action filled with BDSM stuff. Don't read it if that makes you less than happy.  
Disclaimer: Don't own, would love to.**

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"God, I am so fucking _sick_ of you lording over me at the hospital. You act like just because you're my boss, you can treat me however the hell you want. You try to get me drug-tested, you make me do extra hours in the clinic just because we're dating, you—"

"—I _can_ treat you however I want! You told me you liked clinic duty."

"That's just because the clinic has a good view of your office!"

"Rems, as Dean of Medicine, I have to keep the hospital under control. If you're running amok, I can't do that. So I take reasonable disciplinary measures!" Lisa's voice rose in both volume and pitch as she spoke.

"Your disciplinary measures aren't reasonable. They extend to home! If I don't do as many clinic hours as you want, you don't talk to me for hours. You stop me from going out on the weekends like I'm some rebellious teenager!"

"You might as well be!" Lisa screamed back, unable to keep it in anymore.

Remy took a step back, then slapped her across the face. Just like that. Lisa's head snapped to the side as a bloom of pink spread across her cheek.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked as she realized what had just happened.

"I'm getting my revenge. And you're going to let me." The silky, almost poisonous air of cool and absolute domination filled Remy's voice. There wasn't any way Lisa could stop her. _Wait, what? No! Just tell her she's crazy; you can stop this…just tell her_—

"Yes."

If Lisa hadn't known Remy so well, she wouldn't have known that her girlfriend was taken aback at her response. "What do you want me to do, Rems?" she whispered, sinking back against the wall.

A short silence, and then…"First off, no more 'Remy'-ing. Call me…" Her perfect eyebrows dipped in a frown for a second, then returned to their usual position. "Call me Mistress Thirteen."

"Yes…Mistress." Lisa's eyes flicked around the floor as her mind protested wildly at this extraordinarily strange situation. However, her body was having quite a different reaction.

Suddenly, she noticed that Remy—no, _Mistress Thirteen_—was wearing stiletto boots. This couldn't be good. The patent leather sharpened to a point around Remy's toes, while the heels appeared to be around four inches high. Just as Lisa was trying to swallow away her fear, her Mistress spoke again.

"Kneel on the ground, head down. I'll be back in a few. And trust me, I'll know if you've moved."

Lisa hurried to comply, her knees hitting the floor a little too hard. She bowed her head towards the floor and watched those four-inch stilettos move towards the bedroom, wondering all the while what her Mistress could be doing inside. She just hoped it wouldn't take too long, because her knees were already starting to ache. Yet, the pain seemed to travel from her knees, up her legs and into her, transforming discomfort into desire. What seemed like all too soon, Thirteen returned, still wearing the stilettos—but shod of all her other clothing. Lisa automatically looked up to get a better view, but her head was forced down by Mistress Thirteen's shoe. "You should know better than that, Lisa. Or maybe not. Maybe I need to teach you a little lesson."

Lisa's breath caught in her throat. Whether it was from fear or something else, she couldn't tell. She almost stopped breathing altogether as a kitchen knife touched the underside of her chin gently. It was the one she'd sharpened just the day before. She knew that with one false move, she could be spurting blood all over the floor. Her heart beat faster. To reinforce this, Thirteen whispered right into her ear, "Don't move." That intoxicating sense of power and danger filled her voice again. Suddenly, Lisa heard a ripping noise. She almost jerked around to see what it was, but the sudden feeling of cool air on her back told her that her expensive linen shirt had just been destroyed. She gasped as the back of her bra temporarily left her skin, then snapped back, sliced into two parts.

"Stand up," Mistress Thirteen commanded. Lisa obeyed, albeit slowly. With a resounding crack, her cheek was set on fire again. "When I give you an order, I expect it to be completed promptly. Do you understand?" Thirteen asked, bending down slightly to meet Lisa's eyes.

"Yes, of course," she muttered. This time, instead of slapping her again, Mistress Thirteen went a little further. She yanked Lisa's shirt and bra off and grabbed her right nipple with two fingers, holding it tight. "Yes, _who_?" she asked pointedly.

"Yes, Mistress Thirteen," Lisa replied, resisting the urge to start moaning. As much as this hurt, it gave her a lot of pleasure too.

"That's better," Thirteen said, releasing the nipple. "Now, stand still, no matter what happens."

Lisa almost shuddered. She wondered what exactly that meant was going to happen.

Five minutes later, all her clothes were gone, everything shredded into strips at Thirteen's rampaging hands. She stood bare before a knife-wielding woman who was just as naked but for her stilettos, and it didn't feel strange or unnatural at all. She just stood there, awaiting her next order. It came quickly.

"Bedroom. Bend over the edge of the bed, face down."

_Oh, God. What have I gotten myself into?_ She laid the upper half of her body over the bed, placing her hands in what felt like a natural position near her head. For this, she was rewarded (and, in a twisted way, she really did feel rewarded) with a kick in the thigh from one of those sharp stiletto toes and a sharp slap on the same spot. "Hands behind your back, now." She heard a distinct swishing sound, and before she knew it, her hands had been tied together, bound tightly with some sort of silken object.

"Mistress…" she murmured. There was no response except for the sudden feeling of a stiletto heel digging into her other thigh. Slowly, the heel was dragged across her thigh, creating a red scratch and moving ever closer to her center. The heel teased her folds apart, threatening to enter her, but instead simply moving slightly forward and scratching her clit. She sucked in a quick breath, but couldn't stop the moan that floated out of her. Immediately, the heel was removed, drawing a line down her leg as it went. "This is a _punishment_. I don't want to hear any moans. I don't want to hear you _enjoying_ it," Mistress Thirteen rapped out. Of course, of course, that little speech just made Lisa even more wet and desperate for that heel to come back. Unfortunately, that wasn't possible.

Thirteen moved onto the bed and placed her legs around Lisa's head. Lisa, still stuck in her uncomfortable position, knew what was wanted of her, but wasn't sure if she wanted to give it. Not only did this mean she would end up with a sore neck the next day, but if she refused to comply, her Mistress might punish her more. _Ugh, that sentence just sounds sick._

But it was what she wanted. _To be punished more._ So with a grunt, she shoved herself backwards and tried to get up without using her hands, which were still incapacitated. "What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" Mistress Thirteen asked, livid. Without warning, a strange look of calm passed over her face, and she got off the bed. Lisa thought for a moment that Thirteen was calling the whole thing off, that maybe she would simply be denied sex tonight or something. However, the punishment in store for her was much better—or maybe worse—than anything she had anticipated.

Mistress Thirteen reappeared at the bedroom door carrying a riding crop and wearing an evil grin. "Back over the edge of the bed, Lisa dear," she said. Lisa flinched as the crop touched her face gently with a little crack. She hastened to obey.

_No, no, no, wait, this is pain. You don't like pain, remember? Pain is bad, pain is—_"Aah!" she cried out as the crop hit her for the first time.

"Lisa, Lisa, Lisa." Each repetition of her name was accompanied by another stroke, as were the words that followed. "You deliberately disobeyed me. You might yell now, but you're in for a world of hurt. And the world is bigger than you might think." Lisa's ass was covered in pinkish-red stripes now; the pain, as before, simply channeled into her craving for Thirteen. After a minute or so, her Mistress laid off her for a moment.

Before she realized it, Lisa was lying face up, the bedcovers rubbing uncomfortably against her ass. She winced, and Thirteen said, "Not so pleasant, is it, being on the receiving end of a punishment?"

"No, Mistress," she replied demurely.

"Hmm." Lisa was about to frown at the vague response, but before her eyebrows could even move down, they flew up in surprise as the handle of the riding crop entered her with a vicious thrust. She looked up at Mistress Thirteen, wide-eyed as the handle pumped in and out of her. She dared not make any more noise than forcing out air from her nose in place of what would ordinarily have been groans of pleasure. She closed her eyes, watching the colors behind her eyelids build up as her orgasm built up, forming an orb of heat inside her that threatened to explode at any minute.

She should have known that being allowed to come would be too good to be true though, as the handle withdrew. "Open your eyes," Thirteen said tersely. "You were enjoying that, weren't you? Little slut. You were enjoying your punishment."

"I…"

"Say it. 'I'm a slut.'"

"I'm…I'm a…"

The riding crop struck her on the upper surface of her thigh.

"I'm a slut," she said halfheartedly.

It struck again.

"I'm a slut!" she cried out, her frustration finally getting to her. "Oh, Mistress Thirteen, please. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed all of the punishment. I want nothing more than for you to fuck me again. Please let me come. I'll be good…I won't make you ever have to punish me again, just please let me come."

She wasn't sure what she was saying, but it seemed to make her Mistress happy. "Perhaps I'll let you come…if you do a good job on me first. Now where were we before I was forced to give naughty Lisa a spanking?" The last few words were whispered right into Lisa's ear, making her flush. Of her own accord, she turned herself back over so that she was bent over the bed again. Thirteen straddled the bed, and glancing up once for confirmation, Lisa began licking her.

Lisa knew from experience that if her teeth ran across her Mistress's clit _just like that_, Thirteen's eyes would close and her head would roll back. Now, her tongue entered Thirteen; thrust in and out; licked in a circle, then re-entered. By now, Mistress Thirteen had one hand on Lisa's head, gasping, "Don't stop," while her other hand was busy pinching, tweaking, grabbing at her own breasts.

Finally, one hand tightened in Lisa's hair, creating an exquisite pain, while the other dropped and clenched around the bedcovers, just as Thirteen was clenching around Lisa's tongue. Lisa slowly stroked out the orgasm, savoring her Mistress's taste. "Good job, Lisa," Thirteen groaned, moving off the bed to untie her hands. "I suppose I can let you come now," she continued. Lisa allowed herself to be guided up the bed, but the silk fabric that had been used to bind her hands now went around her head, obscuring her vision. "But…"

"No protests, please," Mistress Thirteen warned. Lisa was pretty sure she was wagging her finger. Then again, maybe not, because that slim finger was entering Lisa. It wasn't enough alone, nor was it going fast enough to even have a chance.

"Please…" she begged. She'd been so close the last time. _So close!_ She wanted nothing more right now but to crash over the edge.

"Beg some more," Mistress Thirteen said. Lisa couldn't see it, but she could hear the mischievous grin in Thirteen's voice.

"I need you inside me…" Another finger was added, but still at that slow, leisurely pace. Like a walk in the park. With an 80-year-old arthritic man. Or with a cane-less House.

Swallowing her pride and giving into her _want_, Lisa whimpered, "I need you to fuck me until I come hard, because you're the only one who can give me that. Please, Remy, fuck me harder," almost sobbing with desperation. She didn't even care that she'd called her Mistress 'Remy', because right now it didn't matter. All that mattered was being able to come.

Apparently, _Remy_ didn't care either, because she began to pump faster and faster, moving her thumb in circles on Lisa's clit, her mouth enveloping Lisa's nipples, another finger inside her, faster, faster, circles, tongue, thighs, colors, _yes, YES_!

All too soon, it was over. Lisa lifted her blindfold to see her girlfriend lying beside her, the stiletto heels finally kicked off. "I'd let you do anything to me," she whispered.

"So that means you're just going to keep giving me extra clinic duty?"

"If it means more of this? Hell yes."

Remy frowned, then gave Lisa's ass a light slap, eliciting a little yelp. "Mistress Thirteen doesn't think that's the right answer."

"But I do."

They smiled.


End file.
